Can't You See I'm Poison?
by WhiteNoise21
Summary: After the death of Jo and Lisa's memory loss, Dean Winchester is convinced that being in love just isn't in the cards for a hunter. But what happens when he meets an enticing young woman at a bar one night and can't get her out of his head? Especially when he learns she is just as screwed up as he is? Will they finally heal or poison each other further? Dean/OC Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the first fanfiction I have ever attempted for ****_Supernatural, _****but I am going to do my best to portray Sam and Dean's personalities correctly. Mostly Dean's as he is the object of my desires *sighs lustily*.**

**I haven't quite decided yet how closely it is going to follow the actual story line. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, feel free to let me know!**

**Disclaimer: I sadly don't own anything but my OC. Boo.**

* * *

The dimly-lit bar was crowded, musty, and entirely too warm for Sam Winchester's liking. Dean on the other hand, grinned broadly to himself as he weaved his way through the crowd of rowdy drunks. Sam sighed tiredly to himself as he followed the path made by his older brother's shoving.

"Quit being such a little bitch, Sammy." Dean demanded good-naturedly as he flagged down the bartender and ordered two beers.

Sam's cheeks reddened, "I am not being a 'little bitch', Dean."

"Yeah." Laughed the older Winchester, sliding one of the beers across the bar to his brother, "Whatever you say, Nancy."

"Look, we have been on this case for a week now and we've accomplished almost nothing. This is the tenth bar we have been to in seven days, Dean!" Sam threw his hands up in exasperation before lowering his voice and eyeing his brother seriously. "I get that you're still hurt over Lisa. I really do, but drinking yourself into a stupor every single night isn't going to fix anything. You've got to start focusing while we are on a hunt, Man."

Dean chuckled, but his expression was devoid of any humor. He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes at the younger sibling who towered over him. "Don't tell me how to do my job, Sammy. We're friggin' hunters for crying out loud! It's perfectly acceptable to blow off some steam every now and then."

"Dean..."

Sam flinched as his brother slammed his now empty beer bottle down onto the counter and stood, just bowed out and mouth turned down, "I'll tell you one thing. You mention Lisa... Or Jo... Or Dad one more time I'm going to knock you into next Tuesday. Do I make myself clear?"

Once again, Sam sighed. "Crystal clear, Dean. I'll see you back at the motel."

Dean watched as Sam turned away sadly and stalked out of the bar. Guilt caught in his chest and he snatched up his brother's untouched beer to try and drown it out.

"Rough day, huh?" A soft, slightly raspy voice caused him to jump.

He turned to find a thin woman dressed in tight ripped jeans and a grey tank top perched on the bar stool next to his.

"Rough year." Dean smirked, his eyes roving her petite body. Her long dark hair cascaded loosely around her shoulders and the striking amber eyes that stared intently at him were rimmed thickly with black liner. He casually shifted his gaze to her hand. No ring. She lazily trailed a finger that was lacquered with a shiny black polish along the rim of her drink. _Whiskey on the rocks_, Dean noted.

"I can relate." She offered a wry smile that almost knocked Dean Winchester's knees right out from under him. "I'm Allyson."

"Dean." He replied, leaning back against the bar much closer to the girl than what was necessary. She smelled sweet with a hint of cigarette smoke and liquor mingled in.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dean." She leaned in even closer than before and whispered, "You know what makes a rough year seem not-so-rough?"

Before Dean could answer a shot of whiskey and another beer was placed in front of him. Allyson held up her shot glass and nodded resolutely, "To a better year!"

She clinked the tiny glass against his and they both tossed them back. Dean grimaced slightly as the liquid burned its way down his throat. When he opened his eyes he saw the pretty girl smirking back at him, another shot held out as an offering. The Winchester brother chuckled and accepted the drink.

_This is going to be a long night, _he thought to himself in amusement. After all, there wasn't much that Dean Winchester liked more than a pretty girl who could hold her liquor. Except maybe a _naked _pretty girl who could hold her liquor. He found his eyes trailing down her milky neck to the low cut neckline of her tank top.

"Sorry to interrupt your ogling, but this is my song!" Allyson exclaimed as _Rock and Roll_ by Led Zeppelin blared from the jukebox. She leaped from her sit, casting a flirtatious glance back in Dean's direction. "You coming or not, Casanova?"

Dean held his hands out, "Sorry, Sweetheart, I don't dance. I'll be here when you get back!"

She shrugged, "Suit yourself!"

He watched as she twirled and swayed her way through the crowd of people. A smile tugged at his lips at the mere fact that no one else was dancing. She had clearly had a few too many whiskeys already.

_"It's been a long time, been a long time,_

_been a long, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time._

_Yes it has."_

The irony of those lyrics weren't lost on him as he turned back to his beer. It _had _been a very long, very lonely time since Lisa had lost her memory and Dean had cut both her and her young son, Ben, from his life.

_"It's been a long time since the book of love, _

_I can't count the tears of a life with no love. _

_Carry me back, carry me back, _

_Carry me back, baby..."_

Dean cleared his suddenly tightened throat and ran a hand tiredly over his face. He was beginning to hate this song, though he never thought it possible to despise anything Led Zeppelin played. However, he had a half-amused thought that this song was practically his theme song.

"I swear this is like my theme song!" Allyson announced very loudly as she sagged back into her chair. A very appealing film of sweat glistened on her skin and her eye liner was slightly smudged under her eyes.

"Open your arms, open your arms, open your arms, Baby!" She belted out, "Let my love come running in!"

Dean couldn't ignore the way his heart was hammering inside his chest, nor was he able to suppress his urges any longer.

"What do you say we get out of here?" He whispered huskily into her ear, as he leaned forward letting his lips gently graze her neck when he spoke.

* * *

Deans hands trailed over her soft, ivory skin as their mouths pressed hungrily against one another. She was straddled atop him clad in only her very tiny lace underwear. She shifted so that her weight was pressing against him in a very satisfying way. Her tiny fingers caressed his stubbly cheeks before knotting themselves in his hair. She tilted his head back and ran her tongue lightly from the base of his strong, square jaw to his ear. He felt his body shudder and buck beneath her. God, she was driving him mad.

_Alright, _Dean thought, _Enough playing around. _

He simply couldn't take it any longer. He slid one rough, callused palm up her back, before hooking his fingers around her bra strap and effortlessly popping it loose.

"That's quite skillful." She murmured against his neck, "Done this before, huh?"

He couldn't help but grin, "Once or twice."

He cupped his hands over her small, but perky breasts nearly losing his mind when he felt her slender fingers loosening his belt. He held his breath and bit his lip before muttering out a string of impassioned curses while her fingertips brushed lightly over his hip bones.

Groaning he struggled slightly to re-position himself in the cramped backseat of the Impala.

"Usually I go for a bed, though." He admitted.

A mischievous expression danced across her face as she yanked off his jeans, causing him to gasp.

"Now where's the fun in that?" She smirked.

* * *

**A/N: Just a brief little steamy scene to start off with. They'll get steamier later on, my fellow dean-lovers, I promise! Let me know what you think! There's more to come soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Shout out to ****_Dean's Dirty Little Secret_**** for being my first review! Wut wuttt! Also, a thank you to my anonymous reviewer and everyone who favorited and followed so far. You are all awesome!**

**Also, I went back and noticed a couple of typos and some things I wish I would have phrased differently. I apologize, I normally get my sister to proofread before I post anything.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I still only own Allyson. *mad face***

* * *

Dean squinted unhappily against the the sunlight streaming through the open curtains. He grumbled a few incoherent profanities before flipping over and throwing a pillow over his face.

"Morning, Sunshine." A not-too-happy sounding Sam Winchester mumbled from across the room.

"Dude." Dean croaked, hesitantly removing the pillow from his eyes. "What time is it?"

The corners of Sam's mouth turned down into a deep, irritated frown and his eyes never left the computer screen in front of him, "Almost noon."

"Jesus." Dean muttered, slowly hauling himself out of bed, "Why'd you let me sleep so friggin' late?"

"Well you didn't turn up here until about 5 a.m." the younger brother shrugged, "Makes sense that you would sleep all day."

Dean sighed heavily as he made his way to the bathroom, "You still peeved about last night?"

"Nope."

"Whatever." Dean slammed the door before yelling, "Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

* * *

"Okay." Dean began through a mouthful of double bacon cheeseburger, "So if this shifter is skipping town and keeping to a pattern, we just gotta figure out his next stop. We intercept him and... Boom! Gank the son of a bitch!" He paused to lick the grease off of his fingers.

Sam's mouth was still creased into that seemingly ever-present frown. "Yeah, Dean. I'm working on that. But you know I can't do it all myself." He slid a napkin across the table, hoping his brother would get the hint to stop slurping his fingers in public. "You could at least _pretend _like you care about helping."

"Nah. We both know your the one who takes care of all the pansy research mumbo jumbo." The corners of Dean's eyes crinkled as a broad smile spread across his face. "Wouldn't want to steal your job now would I, Sammy? Just find the freak and I'll do the rest."

Sam rolled his eyes, "You are so impossible to talk to. You know that?"

Dean just shrugged.

"Think I'll have some pie." He grinned, and began flagging down the waitress.

Sam reached one very long and muscular arm forward and pinned Dean's hand back down to the table.

"What the hell-"

"Dean, we _need _to talk about this. We have to."

The older Winchesters brow furrowed in confusion, "About the damn shifter? We talked. We're gonna hunt the sucker down and-"

"No." Sam's voice strained with concern as his eyes locked onto his brother's intently. "Not the shifter, Dean. _You. _We need to talk about you, okay?"

Dean squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, eyeing Sam suspiciously. "What about me? Hmm? You got something to say then say it, Sammy."

"Where do I start? You're drinking excessively, you're goofing around on cases, and you're staying out at all hours of the night with strange women!"

Dean couldn't help but chuckle, "Dude, it's like you've never even met me."

Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "To put this bluntly you are being an uncharacteristically drunken, slack-off, man-whore. Okay? It's getting out of hand, even for you, Man. It's not a healthy way to cope."

"Why the hell do you always assume that I'm 'coping'? Maybe I'm just having a good time!"

"You are unbelievable!"

"Um..." A female voice interrupted them awkwardly.

The Winchester brother's glanced up to see their redheaded waitress hovering near their table, an uncomfortable expression on her face.

"Sorry to interrupt..." She squeaked, "Just thought I would offer you boys some cherry pie... On the house."

"Oh, Sweetheart, you aren't interrupting anything important." Dean winked, causing the young girl to giggle flirtatiously. "We will definitely take that pie."

Sam momentarily looked like he were going to have an aneurysm, before his face fell blank and he slumped back against the booth with arms folded across his chest.

The perky girl all but skipped back to their table before delivering the pie and, with a wink of her own, slipping a napkin with her phone number scribbled on it into Dean's jacket pocket.

"This," Dean gestured to the pie and his pocket, "Is a good time... _Not _coping."

"Yeah, Dean. Whatever you say."

* * *

They were leaving town in just a few hours; as soon as Sammy pinpointed the exact whereabouts of this troublesome shifter.

That being said, Dean wasn't sure what had dragged him back to this shit-hole bar. He should be back at the motel helping his brother, but instead he found himself glancing around the hazy, crowded room.

He didn't know what he was looking for.

Oh, who was he kidding?

Of course he did.

He was hoping _she _would be here. He wasn't sure why, but she had been on his mind all day. He just couldn't shake her.

Yeah, she had been sexy.

And pretty cool.

And good in bed (Or, er, the backseat).

But he was Dean Winchester, he had been with plenty of sexy, cool girls who were good in bed. He also, never thought twice about them. Usually. So, what made her any different?

Hell, maybe Sammy was right. Maybe he was coping.

But, if it kept him from wallowing in misery and doing other (far worse) things that he had previously contemplated doing, then so what? What was the big deal?

Dean just didn't understand his baby brother's worrisome nature.

Not that Sam had anything to worry about tonight, because Allyson was no where to be found.

After waiting around for nearly an hour, Dean let out a defeated sigh. She had probably already skipped town herself. Mentally, he kicked himself for not getting her phone number. Or even a last name. Finishing the last of his beer, Dean turned on his heel and headed out of the bar.

His phone rang, and as he fished it out of his pocket, he noted the caller I.D. _"Sammy"_

"Heya, Sam. Just fueling up the Impala. Yeah. Yeah. I'll be back in a few."

He snapped the phone shut and tore out of the parking lot.

Boy, he hoped they found this damn shifter soon.

He really needed to gank something.

* * *

**A/N: Well there you go guys! Hope you liked it! Sorry there wasn't any Allyson in this chapter, but things will be heating up again soon! Please let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: The song lyrics below are from ****_Paint It Black _****by The Rolling Stones.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, nor any song lyrics that I reference, nor anything other than my OC, Allyson. *Cries Silently***

* * *

"I look inside myself and see my heart is black," Allyson sang under her breath as she stumbled slowly down the empty highway, "I see my red door and I must have it painted black..."

She lifted the liquor bottle that dangled from her fingertips and pressed it against her lips. The fiery sensation that coursed through her was welcomed as she imagined literally drowning out her sorrows with the bitter liquid.

Her blurry, drunken gaze settled on the bridge ahead and, for just a moment, she wavered with hesitation.

"Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts..." Her voice was barely more than a whisper before building to an out-of-tune crescendo, "It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black!"

Her voice then died off into an uncertain hum as she took her first steps out onto the bridge. She looked through the darkness, hearing the sound of the black water running beneath her.

She reached out a shaky hand and took hold of the railing, using it to steady herself as she drained the contents of her Jack Daniels bottle and then cast it out into the abyss.

"...If I look hard enough into the setting sun," Her slurred voice cracked audibly, "My love will laugh with me before the morning comes..."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she unsteadily pulled herself up onto the railing's ledge. The wind whipped her hair and the river bubbled over the rocks several yards beneath her.

"I see a red door, I want it painted black." She shook her head and swayed back and forth, "No colors anymore, I want them to turn black."

* * *

"Bobby and I found evidence of the shifter out in Tulsa..." Sam was saying, but Dean was only half listening as he drove. _Tulsa. Okay. _He registered the destination, but the rest of Sam's words were drowned out by his thoughts.

The sleepless nights were starting to get to him as he tried to blink away the burning sensation in his eyes. Dean had to admit he was exhausted. He tried to drink enough at night that he could just pass out and get some dreamless sleep, but sometimes not even the booze could keep the nightmares away.

He had been haunted by the ghost of a bloody, shredded Jo for the past week.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw her.

Every. Single. Time.

He missed Lisa and Ben, he really truly did. His heart ached at the thought of never again curling up beside her at night. Of never teaching Ben how to drive a car or pick up girls.

But there was a place deep inside of him that knew they were better off this way.

They were safe, at least, with no memory of him or the horrors of his hunter lifestyle.

But Jo, she ate away at him constantly. Her death was his fault. Her blood had been on his hands. Literally.

And he couldn't seem to shake that image out of his head. Her blood, on his hands.

No matter how much time passed, it just never went away.

He could have saved her. Could have done _something _differently. But he didn't.

And now Jo was gone.

Because of him.

"-turned into the manager of a convenience store and tried to kill one of the cashiers. So we need to find- Hey! Dean!" Sam slammed his hand on the dash to get his brother's attention.

Dean shook himself out of his thoughts and cut a glance at the other Winchester's now irritated expression.

"Easy on the interior! You abuse her like that one more time and I'll dump your ass out on the highway." Dean grumbled.

"Were you even _listening _to me?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Jesus, his brother could sound like a chick sometimes. "Yeah, yeah. Tulsa. Manager slicing and dicing up the cashiers. I got ya."

Sam shook his head and leaned back to pout in the passenger's seat as they neared the bridge.

"You know, Dean, I don't know why I even put up with this. I should have just stayed at Stanford-"

"What the HELL?" Dean interrupted Sam's nagging.

To their left, the brother's spotted a figure standing on the railing up ahead. It appeared to be a young woman, leaning precariously out over the rushing water.

Sam reached in his jacket to pull out his gun as Dean slowed the car to a halt. Both mumbling something about 'creepy chicks on bridges'.

As the brothers silently stepped out of the car, Dean lifted a finger to his mouth to signal for Sam to stay quiet.

As they warily approached the figure, Sam's ears perked up as he heard a low sorrowful wailing coming from her mouth.

_"I wanna see it painted black... Black as night, black as coal... I wanna see the sun blotted out from the skyyyyy..."_

His mouth puckered in confusion as he turned to Dean, "Is that ghost singing... _The Rolling Stones?_"

It took just a moment for Dean to catch sight of the woman's face before his heart nearly slammed it's way out of his chest.

"That's no ghost." He whispered, his mouth going dry. "ALLYSON?!"

The sudden outburst startled Allyson and she nearly lurched off of the railing in her surprise. She turned to face him, frowning as her unfocused eyes tried to recognize the man standing before her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean called out, putting his gun away and holding his hands out in front of him. "Easy!"

"Deannnn!" Allyson slurred out, recognizing that gruff drawling voice.

"Yeah, it's me." Dean cast a concerned look back at his brother, who's face was drawn with both worry and confusion. "Don't move, okay? I'll come up there and help you down."

She shook her head vigorously pursing her lips, "No. No, I don't wanna come down."

"And why not?" Dean asked, very slowly inching his way toward her.

She shrugged, letting her head loll back toward the river, "I just wanna fall..." She mumbled, so low that Dean barely heard her over the whipping wind.

But Dean DID hear her.

"No." He shook his head with authority, his voice deep and serious, "Absolutely not, Allyson. I'm coming to get you."

He took a deliberate step forward, but froze when she release her grip with one hand.

"Dean-" Sam warned, before calling out to the girl, "I know that you don't know me, but my name is Sam. I'm Dean's brother. We just want to help you out, so why don't you come down and talk to us?"

She sighed loudly, "I'm tired of talking! I don't want help! I just want to fall and let everything go black! I want it to be over!"

"No you don't." Sam began, signaling for Dean to get close to her while she was distracted. "I know sometimes it feels like you should just give up and that you want to end things, but... it isn't worth it. I promise."

"You don't get it." She shrugged lazily, "You don't know how I feel."

"You can't be any more screwed up than we are." Sam admitted, "Come on, let's just talk about it."

Allyson laughed at that. Loudly, but half-heartedly. She turned back toward the water and leaned forward. She steeled herself and with one deep breath, released her grip on the railing.

She didn't fall like she had wanted to, though. Instead she was yanked backwards as she felt a pair of strong, muscular arms snake around her waist.

Dean hauled the drunk girl back over the railing and Sam rushed to their side.

"Why did you do that?" Allyson screamed, then her voice died to a watery whisper, "I wanted to fall."

"Yeah, well I'm not gonna let you." Dean said gruffly, pulling her close to him.

Her knees buckled beneath her as the alcohol and the emotional stress finally set in. Dean caught her limp body, supporting her weight in his arms and turned a weary glance to Sam.

"Now what?"

* * *

**A/N: There you go, Guys. Just wanted to say I do NOT take Allyson's attempted suicide lightly. She is seriously depressed and very lucky Sam and Dean were there to rescue her. I have absolutely no intentions of offending anybody and I'm sorry for being so dark. Things will get better... but this is also a mature fiction so things won't always be pretty and some adult topics will be addressed. Hope you still enjoyed it! Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! I love to hear your thoughts! Sorry for the last chapter being SO dark and depressing. I tried to lighten this one up a little while still addressing the issue. Today is my 'off day' so I've just been dabbling with this story. I may even get another chapter posted tonight, though I'm not sure yet. Well hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Allyson winced as she finally came back into consciousness. Her head was on fire and her body ached like she had been hit by a truck. She couldn't yet muster the energy to open her eyes.

_Where am I? _She wondered.

Her body bobbed and bounced slightly and the low rumbling noise alerted her to the fact that she was in a vehicle of some sort. It smelled strongly of old leather, aftershave, and stale fast food.

She sighed inwardly, knowing that she should obviously be concerned.

She heard two male voices talking over the low hum of classic rock.

"I cannot believe you." One of the voices whined.

"What?!" A deeper voice exclaimed defensively, "What were we supposed to do, Sam? Leave the passed out drunk girl on the side of the road? Come on, we both know you have even more of a conscience than I do. We _had_ to keep her."

_Great, _She thought, _They're talking about me._

_"Keep her?!" _The first voice, belonging to Sam apparently, screeched in exasperation, "She's not a dog we found on the side of the road, Dean. She's a person. A person who needs help that we can't give her. We should have called 911 and let them take care of her."

The annoyance in the second voice was clear, "We couldn't do that to her. Look, when she wakes up we will make sure she's okay and stick her on a bus back home."

"She tried to throw herself off of a bridge last night, Dean. We cannot just stick a mentally ill woman on a bus and hope she makes it home alright." Sam huffed.

_Mentally ill? _She frowned, _Who is this son of a bitch calling 'mentally ill'?_

"Yeah, well then let me handle it." Dean muttered.

Allyson decided it was time to make them aware of her consciousness before she had to listen to anymore. She sat up, groaning as a hot wave of nausea passed over her and every muscle in her body seemed to protest.

"Thanks for kidnapping me." She said dryly, smoothing out her long, tangled hair.

Dean glanced over his shoulder at her, eyebrows arched in either surprise or amusement, maybe both.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Allyson glanced out the window and saw nothing but open fields illuminated by the rising sun.

"So where are you taking me?" She asked, more than a little curious.

"Right now," Dean began nonchalantly, "To get some breakfast."

* * *

They sat in the corner booth of the greasy diner. Allyson sipped her coffee as she watched dean study the sticky, laminated menu with far too much dedication. She was hoping the caffeine kicked in soon and chased away her awful hangover.

"What'll it be?" The heavyset waitress asked in a bored, scratchy voice.

"I'll have two eggs, over easy, and a slice of wheat toast please." Sam gave the woman a small, polite smile as he handed the menu to her.

"Umm…" Allyson began, her eyes darting over the breakfast specials hungrily, "Let's see… Pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and two biscuits with jelly."

Dean's eyebrows shot up as he nodded to the waitress, "Same here… And I'd like to add a slice of pie for dessert."

"Ooh, pie!" Allyson's eyes lit up, "Make that two, please!"

The waitress just nodded, a sullen expression plastered on her face as she trudged grumpily back to the kitchen.

"She likes pie!" Dean announced to Sam, admiration lacing his words.

"I heard." Sam grumbled, obviously still annoyed with Dean's hasty decision to 'keep' Allyson.

Tensions settled around their table like a heavy fog as the two brothers glared at one another.

"Well," Allyson announced, pushing herself up from the table. "If you'll excuse me, I need to visit the lady's room."

Allyson didn't miss the way Dean's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed suspiciously at her, even if it was only for a split second. His scowl was accompanied by Sam's thoroughly panicked expression.

"To pee." Allyson clarified, "I literally just have to pee."

Before either brother could protest, Allyson turned and sashayed to the bathroom.

_Great, _she thought frustratedly, _They think I'm going to try to drown myself in the sink or something._

She could feel them watching her right up until she closed the bathroom door behind her.

* * *

While she was washing her hands, she cast a glance up into the mirror.

She looked like hell.

Her long dark hair hung in matted waves around her pale face. The dark circles under her eyes seemed even more noticeable beneath her tired, amber eyes. She looked down at her hands, noticing for the first time the thin cuts that ran across her palms. Probably from clinging to the side of a bridge the night before.

She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. They thought she was crazy now.

The truth was: she wasn't crazy, she was just tired.

Tired of being alone.

Tired of being sad.

Tired of working so damn hard to just make it through every day.

She took a deep, steadying breath and piled her long disheveled hair on top of her head, securing it with an elastic band. After splashing some water on her face, she decided she was at least slightly more presentable.

She hesitated with her hand on the door knob. Briefly, she wondered if she should use this as an opportunity to escape the two Winchester boys. After all, she barely knew them. They could be psychopaths for all she knew.

She shook her head.

_Now _she was being crazy.

They had saved her life; an act for which she hadn't yet decided whether she was thankful or not.

But they had saved her, nonetheless.

She pulled the door open quickly and jumped back as she nearly ran smack into dean.

She clutched her chest, casting an annoyed glance up at him, "Christ! You scared the hell out of me!"

His lips pulled into a tight, sheepish grin as he laughed nervously.

"Uhhh, you were taking a while and…. food's on the table." He lamely jabbed a thumb in the direction of their booth, before shoving his hands in his pocket and ducking his head.

Allyson narrowed her eyes at him, "Thanks."

She gently pushed passed him and made her way back to Sam who was regarding her with a distressed expression on his face.

"What?" She shrugged her shoulders as she dropped down into the booth. She picked up a particularly crispy-looking piece of bacon and stuffed it into her mouth.

"Allyson-" Sam began, seemingly searching for the right words.

"This bacon is to die for." She mumbled, reaching for another piece.

_Please don't start this conversation, Sam _She begged silently.

"Do you have any memory of what happened last night?"

_There it is, _She groaned to herself.

She pursed her lips and feigned an innocent, confused expression, "Not much. I was pretty hammered. I just remember going to the bar and then just waking up in your car this morning."

"You were awfully calm to 'just wake up in our car'." Dean muttered as he shoveled eggs into his mouth.

Sam cut him a warning glance, "Allyson, you were about to jump off a bridge when we found you. I don't know what made you feel like that was the only way to solve your problems, but we want to try to help you."

Allyson couldn't meet his intensely empathetic gaze. She was suddenly very focused on counting the chocolate chips in her pancakes.

"I know you don't know us and I understand why you wouldn't want to just tell us all of your personal problems, but we're here to listen if you need us to. Right, Dean?"

Dean glanced up from his breakfast, offered a half-hearted thumbs up, then awkwardly looked away again.

Allyson really couldn't take it anymore.

"Look!" She held a hand up before Sam could go into a lecture, "I am really sorry for causing you guys any trouble. Thank you for everything that you've done and all, but it's really no big deal. I've had a long week, been a little down on my luck lately and I got _way _too drunk last night. I wasn't even aware of my actions! It won't happen again, so you don't have to keep staring at me like you think I'm going to make a dive for the nearest sharp object or something. I'm _fine._"

She could tell Sam didn't believe her, but he just shut his mouth and rubbed his face tiredly.

"Well," He began after a few long moments of silence, "We're sorry for dragging you on the road with us, but I just don't feel comfortable letting you go back home on your own. We have some business to take care of in Tulsa and if it's alright with you, we'd like for you to stick with us. We'll take you right back home tomorrow."

Allyson nodded slowly, then suddenly stood up and exited the diner.

She leaned onto the hood of the Impala, putting her head wearily in her hands. Sam meant well, she could tell, but she _despised _being treated with pity.

She heard the bells on the diner door jingle as Dean made his way toward her.

He leaned on the hood beside her. She could feel him staring and, finally, she glanced up to meet his eyes.

"You know I don't buy that whole 'I don't remember' crap, right?" He kept his voice low.

Once again, she just shrugged. She couldn't find a more adequate answer to that.

Dean was silent for a few moments, before offering her a small take-out container.

Her brows drew together in confusion as she took the Styrofoam box in her hands, "What's this?"

"You left your pie." Dean grinned down out her.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Alright just one more for today. Enjoy!**

* * *

The three checked into their motel in Tulsa around two in the afternoon. Dean was just stuffing one of his many false credit cards back into his wallet when Allyson cast him an accusing look.

"Lars Ulrich?" She scoffed, "If you're going to go around using credit cards with other people's names on them, don't you think that you should get a little more creative than pretending to be the drummer for Metallica?"

"_You _know Metallica?" He asked, nearly awestruck.

She raised a brow as if to challenge the mere validity of the question.

"You hear that, Sammy?" Dean gestured dramatically at the small woman beside him, "She knows Metallica, Dude."

"Yeah," Sam exhaled as he dropped his duffel bag onto the bed, "I'm a little more concerned with the fact that she knows you use illegal credit cards. And that she apparently is totally cool with it."

"Hey," Allyson shook her head as she collapsed onto the bed closest to the door, "Whatever shady shit you guys are into is none of my business. I don't even want to know."

"I wouldn't call us shady…" Dean chuckled, but the doubtful look on Allyson's face caused him to shrug. "So we're a little shady… So what?"

"Like I said, I don't even want to know."

"And you won't have to." Sam replied in determination grabbing up a smaller and heading toward the door, followed by Dean. "If all goes well tonight, you'll be on your way back home first thing in the morning. Stay here, keep the door locked, and don't open it for anyone but us. We'll be calling to check in, so please don't give us any reason to come rushing back." His puppy-dog eyes pleaded with her.

"Okay, geez. I got it." Allyson held out her phone to show that she would still be alive to answer when they called.

Sam nodded, she could tell that he still didn't trust her.

"Don't do anything stupid!" Dean directed, jabbing a semi-threatening finger toward her.

The two boys exited the motel room. She sat on the edge of the bed rolling her eyes as they locked the door from the outside.

Her gaze fell on the inner turnlock. Were they so dense that they didn't realize she could easily get out if she wanted to?

_Whatever, _She thought as she laid back and closed her eyes, _These boys are weird._

* * *

"I don't like it, Sammy." Dean muttered agitatedly as he steered the Impala into the convenience store parking lot, "We shouldn't have left her alone."

Dean couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. It had been eating at him from the moment they left the motel room.

"I don't like it either, Dean, but you really didn't give us a choice. We should have never brought her with us."

"Oh don't sit there and act like you would have done anything different!"

Sam let out humorless laugh, "I was there, Dean. I'm pretty sure I said 'Let's call 911', but you were too busy trying to stuff the unconscious suicidal girl into the backseat of your car. What has gotten into you?"

Dean's face was pure stone when Sam turned back to his brother.

"Let's just go kill this son of a bitch and get back, alright?"

The two brother's stepped from the car and walked into the small store.

"Can I help you with something?" Asked the acne-ridden teenage boy behind the counter.

"FBI." Sam stated, flipping out his badge professionally as Dean followed suit. "We just had a few questions for you regarding the attack two days ago."

The young man blanched and began fiddling nervously with his nametag, "I, er, already told the local cops everything."

"Well, Kid, we'd like for you to share with us too." Dean's tight smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. "So what did you see?"

The young boy, Robert from the looks of his nameplate, ran a shaky hand through his hair, "Well… our manager called Dana into his office around lunch time. It's all the way in the back storage room, his office that is. No one else was supposed to be back there, but I was stuck back there doing inventory. You see, I was late three days in a row and we have this rule that you have to do inventory as punishment if-"

"Back to the story, Kid." Dean cut in impatiently.

"Right," Robert squeaked. "Well, anyway, while I was back there I heard screaming. It sounded like it was coming from the office. I started beating on the door because it was locked and it sounded like Dana was in trouble. All of a sudden, she came bursting out of the office covered in blood and Mr. Gene, our manager, took off running and bolted out the front door."

Sam nodded as he took in the information, "Okay, is there anything else you remember?"

"Like what?" Robert asked with a gulp, refusing to make eye contact.

Dean glared at him suspiciously, "Nothing strange, whatsoever?"

"Strange?"

"Dammit!" Dean growled slamming a frustrated hand on the counter, "Strange! You know: freaky, abnormal, out of the ordinary?"

Robert blinked rapidly before swallowing hard and going over to his backpack.

"Well," He began as he rummaged through the bag, "You're going to think I'm crazy, but as Mr. Gene was running away I _swear _this came off of him."

He held out a plastic baggie filled with what appeared to be a large bloody sheet of human skin.

"I'll take that." Dean plucked the bag from the kid's hand and the two brothers headed back outside.

"So the shifter is no longer taking the form of the store manager." Sam sighed, "That's just great."

Dean grimaced, running a hand over his face. "I hate to say this, but I guess it's time to hit the sewers."

"Awesome." Sam Mumbled

* * *

Allyson groaned loudly from boredom as she flicked through the TV channels from one bad soap opera to the next. She noted the time on the clock. The boys had been gone for hours, she was starving, and If she had to watch one more lame day-time TV show she really might not be alive when they got back.

She was surprised neither of them had called yet. The fact actually made her a little worried.

Had they dumped her here in a motel and taken off?

Had something gone wrong on their shady-ass 'job' they had to do?

As if to punctuate her thoughts, her phone rang. She jumped up and dashed across the room to answer it.

"About time you called." She smirked, "Still alive here, but I may not be for long if I don't get something to eat soon. Two more hours?! Well are you at least going to bring me something or am I going to have to order a pizza?"

Startled, she held the phone away from her ear as Dean's panicked protests boomed through the speaker.

"Okay! Okay! I won't order pizza! Jee-zus!" She was beginning to wonder if Dean was alright in the head, delivery boys weren't exactly known to pose much of a threat.

She decided she should at least use this time to go take a shower. She frowned in disgust as she trailed a hand through her greasy, matted hair. She smelled like a mix between a skanky night club and roadkill. _Not _her sexiest perfume, by far.

She pursed her lips as she remembered that she didn't have any of her belongings. Sleeping in her current wardrobe, however, was not an option.

Her eyes landed on Dean's duffle bag and an amused smile played on her face. She hefted the bag up onto the nightstand and began rifling through its contents.

Her heart stopped for a fraction of a second when she found the gun wrapped in a t-shirt.

Very gingerly she set it to the side.

_You don't want to know, _she reminded herself.

Curiosity struck her as she found a small leather-bound journal.

She laughed out loud, "Dean keeps a diary?!"

She cracked it open and immediately realized this was not the kind of diary she was expecting. Strange symbols and pictures of horrifying monsters were scrawled on every page.

A lump rose up in her throat, _You REALLY don't want to know._

Quickly she snatched a t-shirt and a pair of Dean's boxers from the bag and stuffed everything else back into it before tossing it back on the floor.

She needed one long shower to clear her head after these past two days.

Allyson turned the shower on as hot as it would go and hastily undressed as the steam filled the room. It took a moment to let her skin adjust to the hot water, but just a moment later she sighed. She just stood there for several long minutes letting the water run over her body.

However, her few seconds of relaxation were interrupted by a loud, frantic pounding on the motel room door.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but at least you guys will hopefully be excited for the next update! Let me know what you think! Feel free to give your honest opinion!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Alright for chapter 6! Woohoo! Sorry to leave you guys hanging on that last one, but thank you all for your kind reviews! It really keeps me motivated! And for all you guys who are anxiously awaiting Allyson's back story, rest assured it will be revealed in the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Allyson quickly shut off the water flow and snatched a towel from the rack on the wall, grumbling in irritation as she tucked it around her.

The pounding on the door never ceased as she stepped from the bathroom and glanced curiously at the clock.

_7 p.m._

It had only been fifteen minutes since she had spoken on the phone with Dean. She recalled him telling her they would be about two more hours, but maybe they had finished up sooner than expected.

_Much _sooner than expected apparently.

"Sam? Dean?" She called through the locked door. She held her breath as the frantic knocking fell silent, her heart beginning to pound heavily in her chest.

She waited in dead quiet for what seemed like a full minute. She could feel her nervousness growing as every horror movie she had ever seen suddenly decided to come rushing into her thoughts.

"I swear that had better be you guys out there!" Her voice quivered as she raised up onto her toes to peek through the peephole in the door. "This isn't funny!"

"It's me! It's Dean!" A deep gritty voice finally called back from the other side, his stern face moving into her view.

She felt the breath she had been holding rush out of her as she quickly unbolted opened the door for him.

"Why didn't you answer, you Jackass!" She exclaimed breathlessly shoving his chest, "You had me scared to death!"

Dean's eyebrows drew together as he regarded her inquisitively, never taking his eyes off of her as he sidestepped his way into the room.

"Would you stop gawking at me just because I am in a towel?" She laughed, "You act like it's something you've never seen before!"

She turned her back to him as she made her way back toward the steamy bathroom, "Now if you'll excuse me, you interrupted my shower."

She reached for the door knob, jumping slightly as his callused hand reached out and caught hers.

"Gah! Don't do shit like that! It's creepy!" She gasped, turning to face him.

His green eyes bore down into hers, his face still pulled into that odd, tight countenance.

"What?" She smirked, cocking a seductive eye brow at him, "Did you want to join me?"

"I would like that very much." He growled, catching hold of her other wrist and pressing her against the wall with his muscular body.

"Dean!" She laughed out nervously, "A single one night stand does not entitle you to shower with me!"

He began nuzzling his nose into her still slightly damp neck. She could feel his hot, ragged breath against her shoulder. The stubble along his jawline scraping gently against her soft skin.

Normally she would have been incredibly turned on, but something deep inside of her was screaming that this wasn't right.

"Where is Sam anyway?" The wavering high pitch of her voice betraying her uneasiness.

"Oh he won't be back for a while."

Something about the mere way that he answered sent an involuntary chill down her spine and made her chest constrict painfully.

"Dean I don't want to-" She began, tugging futilely against his powerful grip on her wrists.

Dean gave absolutely no acknowledgement to her protests and only pressed himself harder against her petite frame.

"Dean-" She gasped, his teeth nipping painfully at her neck.

Swiftly he pinned both of her wrists against the wall over her head. He held them in an iron vise with one hand, allowing the other to travel down her body and slip under the towel.

"Stop it!" She demanded with as much authority as she could muster, "Stop it, Dean! You don't have a right to do this!"

She flinched when she felt his rough hand enclose painfully around the flesh of her thigh.

"You. Are. Hurting. Me!" She grunted, desperately attempting to writhe from his grasp.

She couldn't help but scream as she was suddenly and forcefully jerked away from the wall and launched across the room and onto one of the beds. Before she even had the chance to register what had happened, Dean was there hovering over her. He made a move to snatch the towel from her body.

_Oh hell no! _She thought angrily, _I am not going down without a fight._

Allyson lashed out a leg in her fury and felt her heel connect sharply with his stomach.

Dean was momentarily caught off guard and Allyson used this as an opportunity to thrust out her other leg and strike him square in the nose.

He clasped a meaty hand over his nose and made a gurgling protest of pain.

Allyson's mind immediately flew to the gun in Dean's duffel.

After one deep strengthening breath, she dove from the bed with hands outstretched toward bag on the floor.

Dean's hand caught firmly onto her ankle just as she jammed her hand into the pile of clothes and felt her fingers curl around the gun's cold metal barrel.

She was violently yanked across the floor, feeling the rough carpet burn the skin on her elbows.

"Dean, STOP!" She squealed in near panic, rolling her body over and pointing the gun at him. It felt cold and deadly and evil in her hands.

"Please don't make me use this…" She whispered.

The look of rage in Dean's eyes, however, confirmed her worst fears as he made a lunge for her.

"Oh God!" She screamed and…

_Bang!_

She heard Dean let out a hiss of pain as a bullet tore through his right shoulder.

Allyson felt like things had suddenly shifted to slow motion as she pushed herself off the ground and snatched her cellphone from the nightstand. A growling, cursing Dean pounced at her as she ducked into the bathroom, slamming the door in his face.

She huddled against the far wall by the sink and, with shaking hands, began punching numbers into her phone.

She flinched as the door rattled on its hinges as Dean flung his body against it from the other side.

"Come on, come on!" She pleaded as she lifted the phone to her ear and heard it begin to ring.

* * *

"I'll call Allyson and let her know we're on our way back." Sam sighed.

After hours of interrogating people and trudging their way through the sewers, the two were still no closer to finding the elusive shapeshifter.

Dean grunted running an exhausted hand through his hair, "I swear this is the sneakiest son of a bitch we've ever tried to track down."

Sam nodded in agreement as he whipped out his cellphone just as it began to ring.

"Perfect timing." Sam remarked, "She's calling me right now."

"Probably to ask what's taking us so long to bring her food." Dean's eyes crinkled with amusement.

Sam smirked as he flipped open the phone and pressed the phone to his ear, "Hey, Allyson, we're on our way back so-"

Sam was cut short by a frantic outburst from the other end of the line.

"Wait, what?" Sam's face contorted with concern and confusion, "No, Dean's with me. How is that possible?"

Dean cut an alarmed glance at his brother who was now obviously distressed.

"What's she saying, Sam?" He pressed.

"Hang on, Allyson!" Sam instructed, "Just stay where you are! We're coming!"

Unable to control himself, Dean snatched the phone from his brother's hand.

"Allyson?!" He demanded, just in time to hear a loud, sickening crash and horrified scream.

Then the line went dead.

"Dammit!" He growled furiously, slamming his hands against the steering wheel and stomping his foot on the gas pedal.

* * *

"Allyson?!" A deep, familiar voice boomed through the speaker causing her stomach to churn.

Before she could utter a word the door burst open, splintering at the hinges.

A petrified scream escaped Allyson's lips as she lashed her arms out in a pitiful attempt to fight off her attacker.

"I don't know what the hell is going on, but don't you fucking touch me!" She shrieked, swinging her fists at Dean in a blind fury.

She gasped in pain as Dean's fingers entwined in her hair and he yanked her roughly from the floor. Her fingernails scraped uselessly along the walls as she tried to catch hold of something when he dragged her mercilessly from the bathroom.

He threw her down on the bed once more. She was all too aware of how exposed she was, having lost her towel at some point during their scuffle. She grabbed the bed sheet and wrapped it around herself, though she knew too well that it made her no less vulnerable.

Something glinted out of the corner of her eye and a sharp edge was suddenly pressed against her throat.

"You don't want to do this, Dean." She whispered, casting a glance down to the knife he held to her windpipe.

"Oh, but I do." Dean drawled with a twisted smile.

Allyson squeezed her eyes shut in fear.

Suddenly, the door to the motel room flew open with a loud bang.

"You son of a bitch!" A deep voice barked out menacingly.

Allyson craned her neck slightly to see both Sam and Dean in a defensive stance, guns trained on her assailant.

"What the-?" She breathed as her eyes darted from the Dean by the door to the 'Dean' hovering over her.

Suddenly a shot rang out and the Dean that had attacked her convulsed and then crumpled on top of her. She felt her lungs constrict as his full weight crushed her against the bed.

Only a moment later, however, the weight was gone as the apparently 'real' Dean hauled his look-alike from her body. A look of rage mixed with genuine concern contorted his face.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked breathlessly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Allyson was once again aware that she was only wrapped in a bed sheet as she pulled the thin cloth tighter around her body. She didn't bother to answer Sam's question.

_Am I alright?!_ She thought in disbelief, _He's got to be joking._

Noticing her discomfort, Sam kindly offered her a t-shirt to slip on. She stiffly accepted it, pulling it over her otherwise naked figure.

"What the _hell_ was that?!" She finally shrieked at them, unaware of the silent tears that had escaped her eyes as she leaped angrily from the bed.

"Shapeshifter." Dean growled, his green eyes boring into hers intently.

"I'm sorry, a _WHAT?" _

The two brothers exchanged a long, apprehensive glance before sighing heavily.

"You'd better sit back down for this." Sam advised.

* * *

**A/N: So how was that? I tried to make it really tense and dramatic without going ****_too _****over the top! Please let me know what you think! Thanks for your support and next update will be soon!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry it took a few days to get this chapter up! I meant to have it uploaded Saturday night, but my computer crashed. Sorry if there are any errors. I rewrote this chapter three times, the third time rather hastily because I was just trying to finally get it up.**

**Here is a bit of Allyson's backstory for those of you who were anxiously waiting. I hope it doesn't disappoint! Please let me know what you think!**

* * *

Allyson was hunched over a stiff drink at the bar. She sighed heavily as she absentmindedly trailed her finger around the condensation ring her glass had made on the counter top.

"Mind if I join?" A gruff, but kind voice asked from over her shoulder.

Allyson didn't need to turn around to know who that drawl belonged to.

"How did you find me?"

"Sweetheart, I hunt down monsters for a living," Dean chuckled, sliding onto the stool beside her. "It wasn't too much trouble to find a pissed-off chick with an apparent drinking habit."

She felt her throat constrict and her stomach roiled at the mention of that word.

_Monsters._

"I still think you're crazy. "She murmured, still not meeting his eyes.

"Most people do." Dean shrugged nonchalantly, but the creases in his forehead betrayed his concern.

"Monsters are _not _real." She stated, her voice wavering slightly as she finally locked her amber eyes onto his green ones. "They can't be real."

"Can't they?" Dean challenged, "I know it's a lot to take in and I get that you're freaked out, but you saw what happened back in that motel room. You saw that thing that tried to kill you."

She could hear something strange catch in his throat as he choked out that final sentence.

"It looked like you." She whispered, her eyes quickly darting away from his face.

"But it wasn't me, Allyson." He reached a hand out to her and his heart fell when she flinched away, "You know it wasn't me. You know I would never do that."

"All I know is that I only met you two days ago and you've already gotten me into more shit than I could have imagined." She laughed humorlessly.

She slid the now-empty glass away from her and motioned for the bartender to bring another.

"Yeah. I saved your life too." Dean reminded her pointedly.

Allyson closed her eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath, "So that's it? You save my life one time and I'm just supposed to be cool with all the other fucked up stuff that has happened since?"

"No," Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair, "But you should at least trust me."

Allyson stayed silent for a very long time.

"So are you going to tell me why you did it?"

"Why I did what?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about." Dean's voice was low, a sharp edge to his words, "You tried to throw yourself off a bridge. Would have succeeded too, if I hadn't been there. Now I want to know what made you so sad."

Allyson rolled her eyes, "I'm not sad. I'm happy as can be."

"You drink an awful lot for a happy person." Dean observed.

She cut a glance at the beer he knew clenched in his hand, her eyebrows raised incredulously, "So do you.

"I never claimed to be happy, did I?" The corners of Dean's mouth twitched into a sad smile, causing Allyson to regret her comment, "So tell me why you did it."

"What makes you think I owe you an explanation?" She challenged.

"Well, I did just tell you our biggest family secret." She could feel his eyes boring into her, "A secret that only a handful of other people know about, and nearly every one of them are hunters like we are. I think you could at least share a little something in return."

Allyson fell silent once again, this time Dean wasn't sure if she was going to speak again.

Finally she did.

"I had a brother." She began, her eyes wide as she stared unseeingly down at the drink in front of her. "His name was Ryan. We were close, just like you and Sam. We spent our entire childhood bouncing around from one foster home to the next. They always kept us together, thank goodness, but he hated having to move around all the time. When he finally turned eighteen, he left. He joined the Marines and I didn't see him again for two years. I was really depressed at first; he never called, never wrote."

She paused to take a sip of the drink in front of her, refusing to meet Dean's intent gaze.

"I was so sad and so lonely, but then I met a guy." She smiled, tears beginning to glisten in her eyes, "We fell in love and got engaged. I was finally happy again. Six months ago, Ryan showed up at my front door. I was ecstatic. I thought he had come to surprise me; to be there for the wedding. But he hadn't…. He was different."

She felt a rough thumb graze her cheek, wiping away the unnoticed tear sliding down her face.

"He was so…." She floundered for the right words, "_Angry_. So violent. He hit me and called me a whore. My fiancé, James, came rushing in to save me. But Ryan…. He…."

She clasped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle the sob that threatened to escape her trembling lips. She felt Dean's strong, comforting hand on her shoulder.

"What did he do, Allyson?" He pressed.

It took one deep breath and a long swig of liquor for Allyson to compose herself. A steely expression glazed her face as she finally met Dean's stare for the first time.

"He killed him." Her voice was harsh, venom dripping from each word, "My own brother killed the man that I loved. Snapped his neck with his bare hands. Then he attacked me. Beat me within an inch of my life, but he didn't kill me. He killed James, but he let me live. I was conscious long enough to watch him pull out a gun and blow his own brains out."

Dean sucked in a breath, looking down at his lap in anguish, "Allyson, I am so sorry. I hate what that son of a bitch did to you-"

Allyson was chewing on her thumbnail, seemingly in a daze.

"His eyes were black." She mumbled.

Dean's head snapped up, "What did you say?"

"They were black."

"You're sure?" Dean inquired urgently.

"Black as coal." She continued to mutter, "It wasn't him. I don't know what they did, but he wasn't my Ryan anymore. He was not my baby brother."

Dean clenched his jaw, his voice lowered to barely more than a whisper, "You're right, he wasn't."

Allyson cast a curious glance at him.

"He was possessed by a demon, Allyson. I'm sure of it."

Allyson felt herself shy away from Dean uneasily, "Why do you think that?"

"There is no other explanation for it. People don't just go postal and change eye color for no reason." Dean clasped his big, callused hand around her soft, dainty fingers, "It wasn't your brother that hurt you and killed your fiancé. It was a demon."

Allyson was speechless. She pressed a shaking hand to her forehead in distress, a cold sweat breaking out over her body.

"Did you notice anything else strange about him?"

"Everything was strange." Allyson breathed.

"I know, but did he say anything else to you? Did you see the demon leave his body when he shot himself?"

"I-I don't remember," She stuttered, "I passed out right as the gun went off."

Dean nodded, "We need to get back."

* * *

"Allyson are you okay? I know it was a traumatizing experience for you, but-" Sam trailed off when he noticed the tight expression on Dean's face as he led the shell-shocked girl into the motel room, "What's wrong?"

"Sammy, I need to talk to you." Dean muttered as he helped Allyson take a seat on the bed before motioning for Sam to follow him outside, "Now."

"What happened, Dean?" Sam asked as they stepped out into the breezeway.

He was all too aware of the mounting tension that had followed the two into the room.

"Her demon-possessed kid brother beat her up and murdered her fiancé. That's what happened." Dean's voice was harsh and angry as he paced back and forth.

Sam felt a lump rise in his throat, "That's awful. The poor girl."

Sam Winchester knew all too well what it was like to lose the love of your life to a soulless demon.

"What do we do?" Dean asked, desperate for an answer.

"Dean, I know you like her and all, but there's nothing we can do." Sam sighed, "There are hundreds of thousands of demons out there. We could never locate the one that overtook her brother."

Dean's eyes widened in disbelief, "So what then? We just take her home and say, 'Sorry a demon killed everyone you love, but have a nice life?' We can't do that, Sam! This is our job. It's what we do! We've got to find the bastard and gank him."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, "We can't, Dean. You know that. It would be nearly impossible."

"Nearly." Dean nodded resolutely, "But not completely."

He turned to go back into the motel room and paused, glancing back over his shoulder, "I'm gonna find it and I'm gonna kill it, Sammy. With or without your help."


	8. Chapter 8

**WARNING: Some mature content in this chapter.**

* * *

"Jo." Dean breathed, his heart threatening to hammer its way through his chest.

The pretty blonde staring down at him smiled kindly, but unshed tears glistened in her deep brown eyes.

"Jo, where have you been?" Dean asked as he shot into a sitting position on the bed.

Deep inside he knew that he hadn't seen her in a very long time, but he couldn't remember where she had gone. The answer was scratching at the back of his mind, but he just couldn't grasp it.

Wordlessly, Jo eased herself onto the edge of the bed. She was wearing a long, flowing white dress. This struck Dean as very odd since Jo wasn't much of a dress-wearing kind of girl.

He was suddenly aware of how silent and pale she was.

A knot began forming in his stomach.

Something wasn't right.

"Jo," Dean pressed, reaching a hand out to her, "Say something. Please."

The moment his skin made contact with hers, Jo's mouth fell open and she let out an ear-piercing shriek. Her face contorted in pain as her hands quickly clutched at her abdomen.

Dean watched in horror as blood seeped through her fingers and Jo's eyes rolled back in her head.

"No." Dean's voice caught in his throat as he dove to keep her limp body from hitting the floor.

"Jo!" Dean called out, desperately shaking her lifeless form.

He frantically pressed his hands over the gaping wound in her side trying to stop the continuous flow of blood. The red stains stood out wickedly against her white dress and ashen skin.

"Jo, don't you die!" Dean commanded through gritted teeth, "Don't you dare die on me, Joanna Harvelle!"

Her body remained still and her breathing had stopped. Dean knew she was already gone and tears leaked down his face steadily.

He should have done something.

He should have saved her.

* * *

With a gasp Dean's eyes flew open and it took a moment to realize where he was.

His heart was thudding rapidly and he was soaked with sweat.

Trying to steady his breathing, he glanced around in the darkness and flipped on the lamp next to him.

He was in bed in the motel room, but there was no Jo.

No bloody mess on the floor.

Just Sam, snoring softly beside him.

Groaning he pushed himself up and ran his hands over his face in exhaustion.

"Nightmare?" A soft, sympathetic voice asked from across the room.

Dean quickly glanced up to see Allyson curled up in one of the cheap plastic chairs by the fold-out table.

"No, I just-" Dean protested quickly.

"It's okay." She murmured, looking down at her hands, "Me too."

Slowly, Dean got out of bed and made his way over to her. With one hand he grabbed the chair opposite her and swung it around so that he could straddle it and rest his chin on the back.

"How you handling it?" He asked after a moment's hesitation.

She shrugged, "I suppose I could be handling it worse. I could be standing on the railing of a bridge right now."

Dean's eyebrows knitted together in distress, "That's not funny."

"You're, right. It's not." She agreed, before glancing up at him, "Who's Jo?"

Dean felt a lump rise up in his throat and the tears prickling in his eyes, "A girl Sam and I used to know. She died last year."

Allyson nodded sadly, wringing her hands, "I'm sorry. Did you love her?"

Dean felt his chest constrict even further. He opened his mouth to answer, but abruptly closed it again.

He looked away, shutting his eyes tightly in an attempt to compose himself.

"Never mind." Allyson mumbled, "You don't have to answer that."

Grateful, Dean cleared his throat and willed his eyes to stop trying to overflow.

The two sat in silence for a long time before Allyson finally spoke.

"You want to get out of here?" She asked, beginning to tie her long hair back in a ponytail.

Dean couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his lips, "It's almost 4 am."

"I don't care! I can't sit here anymore and wallow in my pity with you. I'll go nuts."

Allyson stood and Dean noticed for the first time that she was wearing his old Van Halen t-shirt. It was massive on her tiny frame and fit her more like a short dress. He couldn't help but wonder if she were even wearing anything underneath…

He shook the thought from his mind and began pulling on a pair of jeans and a clean white t-shirt. He stole a glance at Sam, who was still dead asleep, and snatched up the Impala keys.

He shoved his pistol into his waistband, just in case, and stepped outside with Allyson.

"Oh." Allyson breathed, curling her arms around her as a cold gust of wind blew through the breezeway. Goosebumps rose on her skin.

"Hold on." Dean ducked back into the motel room, quickly grabbed his dad's old leather jacket, and handed it to Allyson.

"Thanks." She smiled graciously and slipped it over her shoulders. The way it engulfed her made her appear even smaller than before.

They both climbed into the Impala and Dean tore out of the parking lot.

* * *

They drove around town for over an hour.

Sometimes they talked and others they just sat in a comfortable silence.

Despite the stress and the misery he had been living in, Dean found that Allyson had the power to put him at ease and he liked that. He liked it a lot.

He also liked the way that his t-shirt showed off so much of her ivory thighs.

And the way that he caught her amber eyes staring at him numerous times throughout their drive.

"What?" He finally asked as he put the car in park on the side of a dark dirt road.

He turned in his seat so that his full body was facing her.

"Just thinking."

"About?" He prodded, lifting a brow.

"Going home tomorrow." She nearly whispered. He could clearly hear the sadness in her voice.

"What about it?" He didn't really need to ask, he was pretty sure where this was going.

"I don't want to." She admitted. "I'm all alone there."

Dean sighed wearily, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "Allyson, I'm sorry. I really am, but you know you can't stay with us."

"I don't see why not..." She muttered, absentmindedly playing with the hem of her shirt.

"It's dangerous, Allyson. You could get hurt." Dean's face was taut and serious, "Or worse."

A sad, crooked smile tugged at her lips, "I could get hurt anywhere. That's already been proved."

Dean gripped her hand tightly, "I can't be responsible for that happening, okay? Please just let us take you home tomorrow. We will keep in touch and keep an eye out for you."

Allyson looked up to meet his urgent gaze, "You promise to keep in touch?"

Dean nodded.

"Nothing is going to hurt you again, Allyson." He insisted, "Not on my watch. That's why you can't come with us. There are too many things that could go wrong. Too many things that could hurt you. I want you at home, where you will be safe."

"What if that demon comes back?" She asked fearfully.

"He won't." Dean assured her, "I'm going to make sure of that."

Allyson sat quietly for a moment.

"You know the night that you pulled me off of the bridge?" She began hesitantly, "That was supposed to be our wedding night."

Dean swallowed back the sickness that he felt.

Before he could say a word of comfort, however, Allyson's lips crushed themselves against his.

Dean's brows arced in surprise, but he returned the kiss passionately.

He snaked one arm tightly around her waist, while the other hand tugged firmly on her ponytail. Allyson moaned softly as Dean's lips made their way down her neck to her collar bone.

He suddenly snatched the elastic band from her hair letting her locks fall freely around her shoulders.

His hands grasped at her hips and, with one swift motion, he hauled her up and onto his lap.

Allyson peeled off his white shirt, marveling at his muscular torso. She brushed her fingers through his slight smattering of chest hair and daintily traced the pattern of the tattoo on his chest.

Dean slipped his hands up her thigh and was delighted and fully aroused to find her completely naked beneath his t-shirt.

He shoved the jacket from her shoulders and threw it to the floor.

Their mouths connected hungrily as Dean rocked his hips back and forth beneath her.

"Dean." She gasped, breathlessly.

He grabbed her hands and none-too-gently placed them under the waistband of his jeans.

"Dean." She sighed again, attempting to pull her hands away, but he held them tightly where they were. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Oh, but we should." He growled, nipping at her ear.

"This isn't fair to you." She groaned as his hands slid under her shirt once more. "I think we both know I'm just looking to take my mind off of the pain."

He pulled away from her neck and caught her face in his hands. There was a wild look in his green eyes as they pleaded with her.

"So what?" He demanded, his voice low and rough, "Maybe that's what I'm looking for too, Allyson. Maybe we're both hurt and sick and twisted. And maybe sometimes we want to just give up and die. But do you want to die right now?"

Allyson shook her head in his hands, letting a single tear slip down her cheek.

"Me neither." His mouth crashed desperately against hers and his hand formed a fist in her hair.

Allyson was stiff for a moment before allowing herself to melt against him. Somehow Dean had managed to remove his jeans and she yelped slightly when he pushed his way into her. He was far from gentle this time, but she found that she truly didn't mind.

"Just let go, Baby." He murmured into her ear. His deep, gravelly voice was low and seductive and it nearly sent her over the edge.

Allyson closed her eyes and tipped her head back in ecstasy as Dean's hips moved rhythmically beneath her, his ragged breath against her exposed neck.

She could feel herself teetering on the edge and, with one final thrust, they both let go together.

Neither of them moved for several minutes as they panted against each other. Dean's arms were wrapped tightly around her and she let her head fall against his chest.

"Well," Dean drawled, "Sun's coming up. I guess we should head back."

Suddenly, Allyson shot a hand down Dean's leg causing him to jump.

"What are you-" He yelped, feeling her fingers grip the inside of his thigh.

"We're not going anywhere yet." She grinned mischievously at him.

If she was going back home in a few hours, she was damn well going to make her time count.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think! I have a few different scenarios of which direction I am going to take this story from here. So if you have a suggestion or something that you would like to see happen feel free to comment or PM me! Thanks for reading and being awesome!**


	9. PART 2: Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Okay wow! so I realize it's been over two months since I've updated! So sorry! For those of you who read the comment I posted in the review section, you know that I got married in June so I was too busy to continue updating at the time. I had promised to start posting again when we got back from the honeymoon, but being a newlywed is a lot more work than I thought! I just haven't allowed myself to have time to write. Once I started writing again I decided to re-plot the story to get back in the swing of things, so now I think I am finally ready to continue! Yay! I hope all of my awesome readers are still interested, but if not then I understand. I made you guys wait a LONG time.**

**I'm going to apologize for the length of this update. It's really short, but I'm entering into Part 2 now, so I wanted this to just be a sort of brief intro into that. The next update will be longer.**

**Well, I hope you enjoy and I hope it was worth the wait!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Allyson who is my original character. I, very regrettably, do not own anything from the tv series Supernatural.**

**P.S. I was asked about the time period of this story. Yes, it is roughly set around the middle of season six, but don't be confused if it doesn't follow the shows timeline exactly. I am altering it to best fit the story that I am writing, so I'm sure there will be several instances that don't exactly fit in with the television series.**

* * *

**Six Months Later**

"Sam! Hurry up in there!" Dean banged a fist on the bathroom door. "We don't have all day, Princess!"

Moments later, a wet, exasperated Sam emerged from the room followed by a thick cloud of steam.

With a towel slung around his waist, he ran a hand through his dripping, dark hair and agitatedly marched to his duffel bag.

"Ten minutes, Dude." The younger Winchester grumbled as he slung articles of clothing from the bag onto the bed, "I only asked for ten minutes to take the first real shower I've had in days."

Dean's mouth curved into a full-lipped frown as he glanced down at his watch, "Yeah, well you were in there for eleven."

Sam rolled his eyes and marched back to the bathroom to get changed, slamming the door behind him.

"We're burning day light, Sammy! We got places to be and demons to kill!" Dean yelled as he slung his own bag over his shoulder and made his way to the door, "I'll be in the car!"

With a heavy sigh, Sam leaned forward against the sink and shook his head.

Dean had gone off the deep end.

He had become nearly as obsessed with finding Allyson's demon as their father had been when hunting down Azazel.

Sam knew that this was just a way for his brother to focus on something other than his hurt and guilt, but things were becoming extreme.

This was the first motel they had stopped at in three days after all, and Dean had only allowed enough time for a brief, much needed nap in an actual bed and a shower.

The worst part was, they had nearly no leads on this demon.

How were they supposed to track something down that they couldn't even pin point?

Dean had attempted to torture information out of a dozen different demons, but it always lead to a wild goose chase.

And Bobby, he had given up helping months ago, referring to the boys as 'idjits' for focusing their attention on a rogue demon rather than the ever-impending apocalypse.

Sam knew he had to stop the madness, but he had no idea how.

Suddenly, the long, blaring wail of the Impala's horn broke through his thoughts.

"Here we go again." He muttered, gathering his belongings and rushing out the door.

* * *

With a frown, Allyson took note of her empty glass and reached out for the brown bottle beside her, frowning again when she found that it was empty as well.

She had stopped going to the bar long ago, as she had gotten tired of that damn bartender always cutting her off.

How dare he tell her when 'she'd had enough'?

He didn't know.

He had no idea how much it took to actually be enough.

With a humorless snicker, Allyson surveyed her surroundings.

Small, dingy apartment overflowing with dirty laundry and unwashed dishes. She took note of the empty liquor bottles that were scattered haphazardly around the darkened den.

She had become one of _those _people.

She had never before been one of _those _people.

There had been a time in her life when she was on the path to success.

When she was happy.

But there she sat, with uncombed hair and wearing the same sweatpants as yesterday with an empty bottle of whiskey at her side.

For the first time in months, she let the thought of Dean drift into her mind without immediately banishing it.

She was silently thankful that he hadn't kept his promise, hadn't kept in touch.

At least this way, there was no one who could make her feel ashamed of the pit she was in.

Slowly, she pushed herself out of the overstuffed chair for the first time that night. She threw out a hand to brace herself against the wall as she wavered slightly, then stumbled her way to the kitchen.

"Dammit." She muttered as she tore through the cupboard, only to find it devoid of alcohol.

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance as she fished out a cigarette from the pocket of her flannel shirt and wedged it between her lips. With shaking fingers she examined her pocket and then the cluttered counter top.

Where had her lighter gone?

She made her way back to her armchair and fished her hand around in the cushions.

Nothing.

"God Dammit!" She screamed in frustration. Could her luck get any worse?

"Tsk tsk. You know it's wrong to take God's name in vain, my dear?" A man's voice came from behind her.

Allyson whirled around, letting her hazy vision finally settle on the two figures that had suddenly appeared in her living room.

"Who the hell are you?" She demanded furiously, a nervous knot forming in her throat.

"The name's Crowley, Darling." He extended a hand, "Nice to finally meet you, Allyson."

She regarded his hand as if it were a coiled snake about to strike, "How do you know my name?"

"Oh I've been watch you for a long time, Love." His lips spread into a thin smile, "I've got big plans for you."

* * *

**A/N: Okay there you go guys! Sorry it's so short, but I hope it got you guys interested. Again, sorry for the insanely long wait on the update. Let me know what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Yay for the next chapter in Part 2! Not sure if I'll be able to get another one posted before Saturday, but I hope you enjoy this one!**

**Also, I'm really interested in picking up a Beta Reader for this story. As of right now, I'm the only one who see's it before it's posted. So, if someone out there is good with spotting grammatical errors and is interested in helping me plot out this story (AND is knowledgeable about Supernatural, obviously), then feel free to PM me and let me know. I'd love to have someone to chat and brainstorm with :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Supernatural. Just my OC Allyson.**

* * *

The two brother's had been riding in near silence for the past four hours. Sam was slumped in the passenger's seat attempting to read a book. He was finding it harder and harder to tune out Dean's humming as Foreigner's _I Want To Know What Love Is _drifted through the speaker's. He cut a withering glance in his brother's direction, but was intentionally ignored.

"Dean," He sighed.

No response.

"Look Man, can we talk?" Sam pressed.

Discreetly, Dean's fingertips reached out and adjusted the volume dial.

Sam's eyes narrowed into an accusatory glare as the lyrics now blared loudly through out the car.

_"In my life there's been heartache and pain,_

_I don't know if I can face it again._

_I can't stop now, I've traveled so far._

_To change this lonely life."_

"I wanna know what love is!" Dean's voice suddenly joined in with the music. "I want you to show me! I want to feel what love is- Come on, Sammy! I know you can show me!"

Sam, however, was not amused and promptly punched the _off_ button plummeting the car into a sudden, uncomfortable silence.

"Sam, you're a real friggin' killjoy. You know that?" Dean complained, slapping the steering wheel in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah." Sam waved a hand dismissively, "And you refuse to deal with your feelings, so I guess we both have our flaws."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but this whole 'don't avoid your emotions' crap is getting really old. If I wanted to talk about all that mushy feeling shit, I friggin' would. Okay?"

"Alright, Man." Sam gave up. "You don't want to talk about it? We won't talk about it. I'm done trying to help you."

Dean grumbled agitatedly, before turning the radio back on.

Boy, Sam really knew how to piss him off.

Dean had spent a year and a half dealing with this shit on his own, and he didn't see any reason for it to change now.

Suddenly, he whipped the car into a small service station and threw the car in park.

"What are you doing?" Sam questioned, as Dean reached a hand into his back pocket and removed his wallet.

"Go get me a coffee." He muttered, handing some cash to Sam. "And a bear claw if they have those."

Rolling his eyes, the younger Winchester snatched up the money and stalked into the convenience store.

"And pick up a twelve pack for later!" Dean called through the open window, before sinking back against the driver's seat.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and opened his contact list. His thumb hovered over her name for several moments, before he snapped the phone shut.

He closed his eyes and sighed wearily.

Every day he almost gave in and called her.

He thought the urge to hear her voice would have gone away by now, but it was still there.

After a moment of hesitation he reopened his phone and clicked on a voicemail he had received three months ago.

"Dean Winchester! You stupid son of a bitch!" A familiar, very-pissed-off woman shouted through the speaker. "I just want you to know that I'm _done_! I'm done waiting for your phone call and I am done worrying about your sorry ass! I haven't heard from you in over a month and you'd better be dead in a gutter right now, is all that I have to say! And if you aren't dead and you get this message, _don't_ bother calling. I'm over it!"

A sad chuckle escaped his lips. She was a feisty one, and he certainly didn't blame her for being angry.

After a long pause, the voice continued more softly, "Okay. Obviously I don't mean that. If you get this message just call me and let me know you're alive. Please? Or, if you've decided that you want nothing else to do with me, then just be careful out there, Dean."

_Click._

Well, it wasn't the same as talking to her, but it was still her voice.

And it still made him feel like a piece of shit.

Not that he wasn't a piece of shit. He was.

He had promised to stay in touch with her. And he had kept that promise for the first month or so. He'd called every single day, sometimes more than once, and he had stopped in to visit twice. Both times had ended with drunken sex and a bitter goodbye.

He wasn't sure what caused it, but Dean finally came to the realization that they weren't good for one another.

She clouded his judgment and distracted him from the hunt and he- well he couldn't even begin to name all the ways that he was bad for her.

Dean new one thing for certain, every woman who got involved with a Winchester man got hurt. And Dean would die before he let Allyson get hurt because of him.

So, he protected her in the only way he knew how. He left.

Yeah, it hurt like hell to ignore all of her phone calls and to know that he would probably never see those deep amber eyes staring back at him again. Of course, he still kept tabs on her to make sure that she was safe, but he did it secretly.

Dean knew that he would never get over her, but he would lock her away with all of his other heartaches and carry on.

Because that's what Winchester's do.

They carry on.

* * *

"Oh I've been watching you for a long time, Love." His lips spread into a thin smile, "I've got big plans for you."

"Plans?" Allyson murmured. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

"Oh yes. Big, BIG plans. Long story really." Crowley grinned broadly then gestured toward the sofa, "May I take a seat?"

"No." Allyson hissed, "You may not."

Crowley's eyebrows arched, "Not much for manners, eh?"

"Says the guy who barged into my apartment without even knocking." She folded her arms across her chest, hoping that she seemed less intimidated than she felt.

"Touche, My Dear." He shrugged good-naturedly, "I should have known Winchester's little pet would be such a spit fire."

Allyson's heart nearly stopped, and her mouth fell open just slightly.

"You know Dean?" She asked hesitantly.

Crowley laughed loudly, "There isn't a supernatural being out there that hasn't had a run-in with the Winchester boys, I assure you."

Allyson nodded slowly, "So, I assume that means you are a supernatural being?"

A twisted smile split it's way across Crowley's face, "King of Hell, to be exact."

Allyson found herself slowly backing away.

The King of _Hell _was in her living room. This couldn't be a good thing.

"What about him?" She shakily gestured to the silent trench-coat wearing man behind him.

The other man, who had been forlornly surveying the rest of the room turned a steely gaze to her.

"I am Castiel. Angel of the lord."

Allyson's eyes widened impossibly, "What is an angel of the lord and the supposed 'King of Hell' doing in my apartment? And what are you're plans for me?"

"_Former_ angel of the lord." Crowley corrected, "But that's a technicality, really."

Castiel stepped forward, "You will know of our plans soon. Just know that you will be a very important asset to us."

"In other words, don't skip town." Crowley winked, "Not that we won't be able to hunt you down anyway."

Allyson opened her mouth in protest just as Castiel appeared directly in front of her and placed a clammy hand on her forehead.

With a gasp, Allyson opened her eyes and shot into a sitting position, her eyes franticly scanning the room.

No one.

She was alone.

She sat in the same overstuffed chair, with her wool blanket wrapped tightly around her. An empty glass and bottle of whiskey sat on the end table beside her.

She placed a hand over her fluttering heart and took a deep breath.

It was a just a dream.

With a groan she stood and shuffled toward the kitchen.

She definitely needed more liquor after _that._

_Damn you, Dean Winchester. _She thought bitterly,_ Damn you for introducing me to all of this monster bullshit._

* * *

**A/N: Well, what did you guys think? I hope you liked it. Just a forewarning, I'm probably going to end up swaying this story ****_way_**** away from the actual television plot. I'm just finding it hard to make the story that I want to tell mesh with the canon. Soooo, if that offends or disappoints anyone, I'm sorry. I personally don't like to read things that follow the tv series exactly. I find it more interesting to read new plot twists. So for those of you who want to stick with me if I take this story in a weird direction, I hope that I'm able to satisfy you! Anywho, thanks for reading and feel free to leave a review and let me know your thoughts.**


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